The Psychic Who Couldn't
by Sup-I'm-Andromeda
Summary: "If I was born a curse and I'm supposed die when I turn thirteen, then maybe I should just make the most of my life right now!" Saffron is supposed to be a psychic. Why wasn't she born with this gift? Every Psychic was. Psychics keep the beliefs that anyone inside the family who does not have this talent is cursed, and it means death. Is Saffron Psychic destined for certain death?
1. Chapter One: The Introduction

**Chapter One (The Fourth Rewrite): A Day in the Life of a Psychic**

**AN: I never intended for Saffron to be … er, whiny. Thanks to anyone who handed over the constructive criticism and not sugar-coating it. Enjoy the revamp. Rock on, brosephs. I'm kinda satisfied with this chapter, so, yeah.**

**I rewrote this chapter once, and then I kinda thought of another scene, so I wrote it down. My first write was something that I'm sure none of you actually read, when my story was titled "A Psychic's Travels!". The second one was the one you read. The third one was a rather fail-ish introduction of another character. This is the fourth one. I apologize for the late updates – writer's block is really annoying. I mean, I couldn't write for, what? A month? Yup, I guess so.**

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It was a calm and lazy day in Saffron City. The sun shone brightly in the sky, and a girl looked through the glass of a window, staring out idly at the pidgey that flew by and the people taking their morning walks. She carefully scribbled down words on a piece of paper, smiling to herself and singing the Pokémon Theme quietly as she did so.

That girl was me, Saffron Psychic, but I always go with Saff. At times, I do insist that people call me Saff, but I was always called Saffron or Ronnie.

I wasn't usually up at 10 o'clock in the morning, but a friend of mine, a boy named Bugsy from Azalea Town, sent me a letter by means on a pidgey, and I was happily writing down a reply to him to let him know whatever I've been doing lately. I must admit, it was like writing on a diary.

_**It's great to see that you're doing fine. I'm doing awesome**__ –_ I looked at the word for what seemed like hours. I decided to scratch the word _awesome _out and write _really, really great _instead – **_and I'm really excited to go on my journey! I heard my parents talking, and I think I'm gonna receive an Abra or a Wynaut. No surprise there._**

But as excited as I was, I was nervous too. What if I screw up and never make it to the Indigo League? What if my pokémon won't trust me? I always thought that pokémon hated me. Even the simplest caterpie would fire a String Shot attack at me and crawl off. I can prove it – we had a ton of those worms in our backyard. But I had to keep my cool somehow.

**_Let's just hope that I don't screw up in Gym Battles, or regular Trainer Battles for that matter. I've never been in a battle and handled a pokémon, really, but still, I've got to prove someway that I'm actually good at something, right? I've got to prove to everyone – and I do mean everyone – that I can easily beat my sister in battle. Maybe I can make a few friends, make a few enemies and stuff like that._** I wrote down. **_What do you know? I might even have fun!_**

If there's anything I hated other than losses, mud, deep water, raisins and about a thousand other things in the known universe, it was being compared to my sister. She was famous across the regions, and is probably the strongest psychic to ever come from Saffron City. I despise it when someone said stuff along the lines of "Oh, you're Sabrina's sister? Then you must be a fantastic battler, just like her!". Sorry to disappoint, but I wasn't. I never even had my first official pokémon battle. With her pokémon, she was an unstoppable Gym Leader. She also had something that I didn't have.

Psychic powers.

She had telekinesis and telepathy. She can talk to her pokémon in her mind and give them orders when in battle, making battle moves unpredictable, much to a challenger's dismay. Unfortunately, I was born without these kind of powers, despite it being common in our family. But then again, my great-great-grandmother wasn't psychic too. And she ended up fine. Almost disowned, but fine.

I mean, back in the olden days, the Ancient and Most Noble House of Psychic disowned anyone without these special powers, so I've heard. I guess they were strict back then. My family also used to be associated with Team Rocket, in a way. I mean, my Dad and Mom used to be Rockets, but then they retired. Now, Dad is the emcee of the Indigo League and for various contests held in various places all around the Kanto region, and now Mom owns a daycare in our backyard filled with tons of pokémon and eggs.

And apparently, I just hang around in the house, waiting impatiently for the pokédex that can come any day now. Any day now …

Today was Friday, and it was a custom for the entire family in the house to sit together on the dining table right after lunch and write letters to other family members in different regions. I was alright with it, Sabrina was more than okay with it, and my parents were the one who thought about it. I could've wrote the letter to Bugsy in lunch, but I was banned from showing signs that we even sent letters to each other. The last time Mom was snooping around my room, she found a letter from him and freaked out. And it was all because of a family feud before Bugsy and I were even born. Nobody really told me how the feud started, but I had the feeling that it was something as silly as pokémon type advantages that the different families all specialized in. It irritated me, really.

When I finished the letter, I grabbed a blue ribbon lying nearby and tied it to the leg of the pidgey that we used to exchange letters. It called out its name a few times, and I heard a noise right outside my door. I opened the window, and it flew off with the letter tied to its leg. I hurriedly closed the window, and the sounds of footsteps were becoming louder for every passing second. I hurriedly jumped on my bed and pulled my blanket over me.

I heard the door creak open, and then a moment of complete silence. "Saffron? Are you awake?" I heard my mom say, almost a whisper. For a moment, nothing, and then she shut the door behind her, the sounds of her footsteps growing slower every step she took. I sighed in relief and pushed the blanket off me. This happened every Friday morning, and it would usually follow off with me being so bored that I'd have to wait in my room for another hour.

So there you have it – a day in the life of a member of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Psychic. But then again, things are just getting better and better every single day.

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**AN: I got the 'Most Ancient and Most Noble House' from _Harry Potter_. Um, yeah. Still a Potterhead. ****Damn, I always forget to disclaim. Er. Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon. As I'm too lazy to look up who did, I'll put it at that. **

**Don't be afraid to leave a review down there, even if you're about to insult my pride in my face. :3 As usual, constructive criticism and even just plain "I loved this chapter!" is always appreciated.**

**Yeah, I'm looking for a beta-reader. Anybody? -looks around for raised hands- Just PM me if you want to! **


	2. Chapter Two: How to Befriend a Bidoof

**AN: 54 visitors ... and four reviews. I don't know if I can live to see the next day. Bidoof needs moar love. You guys made my days. Now I update for ya! But for now, when Saffron's still in her house, I guess the OCs won't start coming in until Chapter 5 or something like that. :D I'm really excited! Make sure to fav and follow for updates!~ Oh, and I've gotten a message to use "this" instead of 'this'. Gladly. Just let me pull a few more stuff and there. All better!**

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So about the thing with Bugsy... well, the thing is, he was a childhood friend of some sorts. He was a Bug Catcher – and one of the most famous ones of them all, too. The Gym Leader of Azalea Town, I'm beginning to wonder what's with me and Gym Leaders. Did you happen to know that I was a prissy kid when I was a whole lot younger than I am now? Bet ya didn't know that.

Just by introducing me to the world of Bugs and Pokémon and lending me his Butterfree net, I fell in love with him and became less prissier than usual. Hell, I bought new _baseball caps_. But I'm not one to talk. I'm ten years old. I wouldn't know shit about love if it hits me in the face, really.

But sigh, when I was seven, he moved back to Azalea Town. Apparently, they were only supposed to be there for a year, but that was probably the best year of my life. Now he ran Azalea Town Gym, and that adds one more person to be extremely jealous of.

He sends me letters from time to time, and I'm extremely grateful for that. Apparently, he's two years older than me. And he claims that he's jealous of me because in a matter of time, I can go on my journey; catch Pokémon, while he gets to stay in his greenhouse Gym in Azalea Town.

So anyway, I remember clearly the day I received my first Pokémon. Well, I didn't really receive this one, but more like take care of it. But it wasn't at all easy. I mean, I had to beg for it. I had to sort out all those Pokémon, to see which ones I wanted and which ones I didn't. I really wanted a badass Yanmega, and there were a _lot_ of Pokémon Eggs in there. For once in my life, I didn't know what to do.

In the backyard, my Mom kept a Daycare for Pokémon. I would help out sometimes, and that was how I experienced Pokémon training. For once, I was grateful. I talked to experienced Pokémon Trainers and they would tell me the importance and the bond between their Pokémon and I would sit there, my eyes wide open, sipping hot chocolate from a mug. There was this teeny-tiny problem, though.

The Pokémon barely gave a damn about me.

They would scurry around and talk to others of their own kind, while I would try to observe their eating habits and whatnot. I really needed a hobby back then. But I would chase after them with a notebook and a pencil. I was _not _good at sketching or drawing Pokémon, and the thing is, I should never be allowed near a pencil ever again if I were to draw.

The main goal of the Daycare was to help build a shelter for Pokémon who just stayed over for a week or two. My mom had an assortment of different Pokémon Eggs lying around, and the place was basically a violence-free garden. Another goal of the Daycare was to help Pokémon become stronger and level up. The shocking thing is, I helped train them.

I got myself familiarized with attack moves and defense moves. The last time I issued a battle between a Trainer's Rhydon and another Trainer's Slowbro, I ended up being grounded for a month. It turns out that I was only allowed to get them battle against those heavy boulders in the backyard. It's bloody unfair, if you ask me.

It was hard to familiarize myself with Pokémon Eggs. Sure, they have patterns, but there are a whole lot other Pokémon with the same color. Which is quite annoying. But I had to deal with it if I wanted a Pokémon.

The day after that, my Mom changed her mind. If I was to have a Pokémon, I would have to prove it to her that I could take care of one. So she brought me to her job. The first ten minutes, I decided that I was starving and that there were no Pokémon that can be lent to me. "We should start out small," she said. "Maybe a Pidgey or something like that."

"What about Caterpie?" I said, gesturing to the worm about to crawl up to me.

She shook her head. "I don't want you to associate with Bug-type Pokémon, silly."

That day, my Mom had been talking with a raving girl who had an awfully fake French accent. She peppered her sentences with French words which my Mom didn't understand. I didn't either, and the boy beside her translated for my Mom. You could tell he was bored, like he was watching paint dry.

He sighed after translating once more. "Hey Rhiannon, I don't even know why you insist upon talking in that fake French accent. You know how to speak in English." the guy rolled his eyes and looked down at his hiking boots. "Just because you idolize Fantina from Sinnoh, doesn't mean that you need to talk in that fake accent. It's bothersome. Irritating. Whatever 'annoying' is in French."

My mom sent a glare at this Rhiannon girl, but she doesn't seem to have noticed. Rhiannon looked at her buddy with a look of loathing. "It isn't fake, _imbécile."_ With that, I edged away from her quietly. She then started cussing and raging at him in words I couldn't understand. My mom just stood there like, _'Dangit. Stupid kids. How do kids these days know how to cuss, anyway?'_

After the argument, the guy brought down a Poké Ball, breathing heavily. There sat a beaver Pokémon that looked vaguely like Rattata. I think it was a Bidoof. Wait … hold on, it _was_a Bidoof. It looked at me uncertainly. Now I know why these beavers were looked down on. They certainly did _not_ look like battlers.

"I want you to look after him," he drawled. "You know the drill. I just want him to get a little bit stronger so I can finally use him for battles."

"What do you use him for, then?" I piped up, rather curious. I didn't understand a bit about the world of Pokémon back then, I haven't.

"Nothing in particular," he shrugged. Somehow, that made me frown. Why are you going to catch a Pokémon if you're not even gonna use it for battles? Contests are good too, but I pretty much think that Coordinators are just prissy gals who send their Pokémon to the catwalk, which is quite annoying in my book.

"Alrighty then," my Mom said, being the cheerful one she was. Her voice sickened me sometimes, but all I could ever do was frown. "Come back again later for your Pokémon!" she waved goodbye as the two Trainers disappeared from sight, still arguing about that Rhiannon girl's accent. As my Mom brought her attention to another Trainer, I set my focus on the Bidoof.

That's when it decided to drench me with Water Gun like I was some Slugma. I blinked and pushed a wet strand of my hair away from my face. I just blinked, utterly speechless. And then again. And then I laughed aloud. The Bidoof's expression was priceless, like, _'Are you out of your mind?' _Believe it or not, but this was the start of a beautiful friendship. And with that, I picked the beaver Pokémon up and gave him a hug. He still looked confused. But I couldn't care less.

That's a great friendship about to start, right there.

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**AN: Aww, Saffron and Bidoof love. So, which one of you is gonna ship that? :D But I guess the main pairing in this is a one-sided Saffron and Bugsy love. Why did I use Bidoof, you ask? Well, I thought he needed more love. Alright, I'm annoying.**

**Thank you to all for sending me OCs. Maybe they have a chance, or not. You know, I just put this up so I could work with a lot of you people. :3 (And maybe because I'm too lazy to develop my own without making Mary Sues.) Can you guys please send in some constructive criticism to make this happy-go-lucky writer better? :D**

**Thanks for reading! Make my day and review!~**


	3. Chapter Three: Bidoof's Goodbye

**Chapter Three: Bidoof's Goodbye**

**AN: I'm sorry for the late update, if this is considered late. I had a bad case of writer's block. Thanks for adding to your favs and follows and reviewing, guys! Keep the OCs coming! Thanks for reading! You guys make me happy. Also, I re-wrote the first chapter, and the first chapter only. If you wanna go check it out, go check it out.**

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I was close with that bidoof. Let me tell you, it slept on my bed and cuddled close to me when I go to sleep at night. I think that it was quite endearing, really. I've grown so used to waking up with the bidoof being the first thing I see every morning, and the last thing I see when I go to sleep at night. I just met it last Friday, but it was already … friendly towards me. Then one fine Tuesday, I woke up without the bidoof curled up on the foot of my bed.

I freaked out. It was playing a trick on me, wasn't it? It had to be. I called its name a few dozen times, it would usually reply to 'Bidoof!', but it didn't. Not a sound. "Okay, you got me, dude! Now, where are you?" When I realized that he really wasn't there, I muttered a few swear words under my breath and rushed downstairs, where my parents were eating breakfast and Sabrina was engrossed at the newspaper, frowning every now and then. "Hey, Mom, Dad, where's the bidoof?"

My dad looked up from his plate and stared at me like he didn't know what I was talking about, almost like 'You were hiding a pokémon in your room?' My mom just sat there, calmly sipping on her coffee, and said, "Dear, that young man came to take it back."

"Its owner came back for it?" I said, not believing it quite yet. I didn't want to believe it. "You're joking with me. Okay, I get it. Ha-ha, you win. Now where is it?" I said, looking around in case the beaver pokémon jumped out from under the couch or something like that.

"I saw Mom take it out of your room, Saffron." Sabrina said, not even looking up from her papers. "And I saw her outside in the backyard, sending the bidoof to a trainer." She flipped a page and adjusted her reading glasses.

"Besides, honey, it's just a bidoof." my dad said reassuringly. Just a bidoof? That pokémon was probably the only friend I had the entire summer, even if it was for a few days! "We can easily buy you another one if you want. Do you want a shiny –"

I shook my head. "No, I just want this one. Maybe you can buy it from the trainer guy –"

"We can't." my mom said, glancing at me. "It's _his _if he caught it himself. Although we can trade it for another pokémon –"

"That's great! I'm sure we can buy an eevee lying around somewhere –"

"But there _is _a catch. The trainer mentioned that he'd be leaving for somewhere when he came to me early in the morning. He must be going to another city to challenge the Gym Leader." my mom said. "I don't know which city he'll be off to, dear."

I saw down on a nearby chair in defeat. "Chocolate chip pancakes?" Mom nodded.

"Cheer up, sweetheart." my dad said enthusiastically, trying to brighten my mood up. "You have an appointment with a famed pokémon connoisseur in the afternoon. He'll help you choose what your pokémon team will be, preferably."

Goodie. I'm betting that it's going to be a psychic pokémon like wynaut or something.

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I didn't have the heart to talk to that connoisseur, but my parents got me into it. And besides, I really did want to go on that journey. Afternoon came in a blink of an eye, and it was true that I wasn't really that worried at all. If by some random choice that the connoisseur recommends me a flying-type, they'd get me a natu or something. And if by some chance that he'd advises me that I get a water-type, they'll get me a starmie or a slowpoke.

The entire family and the connoisseur, whose name was Ricard Nouveau, were seated on the dining table, and I hung on to every word he was saying. Every word he said would affect my future in such a way, for better or for worse. I could feel his purrloin giving me a harsh look, and whenever I look back, I could see the pokémon glaring at me, baring its claws like it wanted to rip my eyeballs of with them.

"Well, I like battles – just seeing them gives me the fire to battle. And I hate losing with a passion. I think I mostly focus on offense, that's really it." The words came out of my mouth before I could even say it. "I'm not a sweet person like anyone thinks I am." I said, and I could feel my parents' stares boring into me, and I looked at them like, _No offense. _"And I really hate mud. So I think a ground-type is out of the question. And I like outdoors and forests and jungles."

"Hm," Ricard said, obviously deep in thought. He then turned to my parents. "A fantastic pokémon suitable for her cold, victory-loving personality is an abra, a pokémon which will soon evolve into a kadabra, then an alakazam." Mom and Dad nodded. I had to agree with him. It's been said that the type of pokémon slept eighteen hours a day. Similar to me in summer days, anyway. "An abra is a good pokémon and battler due to its high speed and special attack. Furthermore, like other pokémon of the same type, it can learn moves of other types to deal with multiple types. Although that the greatest disadvantage of psychic-types is that the moves cannot affect dark-types, this immunity can be eliminated by Miracle Eye."

"Interesting, we were just about to get Saffron that pokémon." My dad said. Somehow it was planted into my mind that they paid him to give out reasons that I would be compatible with a psychic-type. "But what of her next pokémon?" Oh boy, how long is this meeting going to be? These guys were practically planning my future right in front of me.

"Dad," I said, locking eyes with his. "I amn't getting a pokémon that only knows the move Teleport until it evolves!"

"We can provide you with numerous TMs of different types and moves." my dad said. "Or we can buy you an abra that's been hatched with different moves that it received from its parents. Either way, it surely won't be a problem."

"How about campfires? If you don't realize, I still don't know how to light a match and that I'm deadly afraid of burning." I said.

"Hush, we'll speak of that later." my mom said.

"Can I still get a bidoof, Dad?" I asked him after a moment.

"We'll see if a bidoof is compatible with you first, sweetheart." my dad said.

I turned my back, glancing at the sun setting through the glass windows. Bidoof was out there somewhere, and I swear I'm going to find him someway or another.

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**AN: Guys, I'm looking for a beta-reader. If you're willing to beta-read and help me with this, that would be very much appreciated.** **On another unrelated note, if you've read this from top to bottom, then comment cats. Thank you for reading! :3**


	4. Chapter Four: You Can't Explain That!

**AN: Crap, I am _so _sorry for not updating for a long time; I had to move to Canada, and I'm not a big fan of this place either. I had to move to a new school, and I was buried with homework. But it seems like you didn't seem to notice that much. Anyway, I added a few twists … ish.**

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I loved visiting the library. It was my escape when things got a little too loud in the House of the Psychic. When banquets and parties were held (and they were held quite often), I liked to sit in my room and pretend that I didn't exist. But when things got boring there, I leave the house and run straight to the library. It was my strange little world where anything can happen – and I found the librarians there quite friendly.

I walked down the aisles, processing words in my head. I needed a new book to read – I didn't want to read _The Princess of Hoenn _anymore. Maybe _The Warrior of Kanto _would be a much better read. I didn't mean for it to happen, but I caught sight of a book which struck my interest.

It was titled _The History of Saffron City_, and I was shocked I didn't see the book before. Maybe … just maybe I could take a peek. It wouldn't kill for more information, right?

I flipped the book open, skimming through the table of contents for interesting chapter names. _Hoenn vs. Kanto_, _The Beginning of an Era, The Peace Treaty, The First Psychics, The History of Psychics _– Hang on. I glanced at the page number and quickly flipped to page forty-three. _The History of Psychics. _Why I had no interest in learning about the history of my own family line, I have _no _idea.

_There exist numerous folktales passed down from generation to generation in the House of Psychics. Most of them feature how psychic powers came to be, different curses that come with the strange gift, and even how the world came to be, with psychic powers in use. These folktales were said by an easily psychic family that they were never written down, and were always told in the spoken word, as different languages were spoken in the early days, and most were illiterate. However, stone tablets found in 1994, written in an unknown language, translated by an anonymous source, claimed that a few lost legends are, in fact, written down._

As I read each word, I became even more curious. I can remember a few stories my mom told me when I was little – about how the first Lunatone came from the Moon and landed on Earth because of an important relic that it forever lost, about a strange girl who went on a journey to the famed Mt. Zen to obtain psychic powers and returned successfully, and so on.

I found these legends written down on the pages (with pictures, yay!) but that struck my interest more. I was always a huge fan of stories – but then I realized, these things had a possibility that they weren't fictional at all. Strange.

My eyes caught sight of a fact in the corner of the page. It read; _Did you know? In the olden days, members of the psychic families believed that anyone who does not have psychic gifts and abilities, but is still a member of the family, is born a curse and is destined for certain death on their thirteenth birthday._ I froze. I scanned around the page for more information concerning the matter, but I could find nothing.

_Did you know? There is an important book that every psychic family is supposed to have – it contains countless information, secrets, legends, and traditions about their lives. However, these books are very rare and its information cannot be shared by anyone but psychics._ That fact might just about help. I knew very well that there was something in the attic – it was the only place where I was told not to look.

I'm supposed to die when I turn thirteen.

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I ran straight home, dodging pokémon trainers and almost knocking down strangers. This was getting insane. I was sure Mom wasn't home – she was on a shopping spree with Aunt Sally. Dad was at work. Sabrina was in her Gym. I was going to head straight to the attic.

I fished out my keys five seconds earlier and, in an attempt to reach the doorknob, I tripped over a box packed with duct tape. I wondered why a parcel would be in the front steps of the house, when it hit me. My pokédex was finally here! I picked up the parcel and entered the house. "Mom? Dad?" I called out. Utter silence. Good.

I placed the box containing my pokédex on the couch and headed upstairs. I took a deep breath. The attic was where I once wanted my room to be because of the floor-length windows, but Mom said no without hesitation. The number one reason was because it was really dusty. I'm sure the second reason was because they were hiding something inside. I climbed the ladder leading up the attic and opened up the trapdoor.

Inside was Sabrina meditating. I almost fell from the ladder. She opened her eyes, and the violet aura surrounding her faded immediately. Espeon pounced on me, and I fell from the ladder and into the cold floor. "Saffron," she said coldly. "What are you doing in here?"

"Uh…" I was in a loss for words. I was sure that no one was home, so I headed straight up to the attic because apparently, I'll die in my thirteenth birthday. "I don't know! What _am _I doing in here?"

"So how did you find out?" she said, picking up her poké ball from the floor with the use of telekinesis. I was about to play dumb and ask her what she was talking about, when she cut me off and said, "How did you find out about the curse? I _am _telepathic, you know." She said, smirking at me. Oh yeah, I hated it when she did that, and the problem was she _always _did that. The older you are, the more powerful your psychic powers become, and Sabrina was _full _of experience.

"The library. Found a book in the _New Releases _section." I admitted. She nodded. After a while, I cleared my throat and glanced around the room, spotting a bookshelf with only one leather-bound book. "So … can I get the book…?"

She shook her head. Suddenly, the trapdoor was forced open, and a violet aura surrounded the leather-bound book. "Mom and Dad told me to keep this a secret from you. You weren't supposed to know about this until they could find a cure for the curse, which is almost impossible. The stronger your psychic powers are, the longer you can live. But you don't even _try _your psychic powers –"

"Unless you haven't been paying attention for ten years, I don't _have _psychic powers. I _lack _these family abilities and gifts." I said, clenching my fist.

"Saffron," she said with little warmth in her voice. "_Everyone _has psychic powers in them. They just don't realize it!" Her eyes glowed white, and a bright glow surrounded the attic. I fell back, and her eyes returned their original color after a second – still as cold and harsh as ever. "Leave! Mom is home!"

With that, I tumbled out of the attic.

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**AN: ... Did you like the twist? No? Leave a review! :D**


	5. A Very Important Author's Note

**Author's Note: **If you thought this was an update, then you are unfortunately mistaken. Since I moved to Canada a few months ago, not only did I lose my computer, but I also lost the original document in where I had saved Saff's OC profile. I thought that it was easy to make another one, but I spent a week or two to create her character, and three other original characters along the way.

So, for the meanwhile, this story is on a hiatus for a few more months, at best. (It has been for five months, to be honest.) When I finish the OC profiles and when I find my inspiration to finish this story once and for all, then I'll finally write a new chapter. In the meantime, thanks for reading, and I cannot express how much I appreciate the feedback.

Thanks, guys. I'll see you in a few months.

~Andromeda


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